


I Wouldn't Mind

by alcoholandregret



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, nolan is a really really sad boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-04 23:53:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11566008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alcoholandregret/pseuds/alcoholandregret
Summary: He’s got Nico. He knows this.It's not enough this time.





	I Wouldn't Mind

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so this gets kinda heavy so just,, some warnings for y'all. Nolan's got a lot of mental health problems in this and he mentions wanting to die one (1) time so if this would hurt you in any way please don't read it, alright? Stay safe everyone <3
> 
> Title from [I Wouldn't Mind by He Is We](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MSjDXxN09A8)

He wakes up with headaches a lot these days. A cup of coffee and a couple of laps around his basically-apartment hotel room are almost always enough to get rid of it, but for some reason this one stuck to him like glue. It followed him to practice, through every drill - every time his skates hit the ice it was like someone hit him over the head with a frying pan, back to the hotel, back to his bed.

He hadn’t even bothered making himself anything to eat despite not having had anything for breakfast, just went straight to bed. He should be hungry, he knew that.

Nolan’s stomach is the first thing the emptiness takes from him.

He knows the feeling, knows what’s likely to come of this. It had been a while since the darkness came for him, but not so long that he’d been foolish enough to assume it’d left him completely. The shadows were always there, they just often stayed at bay, or at the most brushed up against him just enough for him to shiver under their chill.

_Another cup of coffee. Another lap around the place._

Surely that’s all it’ll take. Then he’ll feel better.

He doesn’t get out of bed.

To give himself the illusion of something to do, like he was just bored and could fix it with mindless things, he scrolls through Twitter until that’s too boring and switches to Instagram. He’s on the app for less than three minutes when the ache starts. A terrible weight settles itself in his chest, and his phone slips out of his hands.

_Why, why, why._

The echos of comments on his posts right after the draft bounce around in his head and he feels like he’s underwater. The rush is too loud in his ears, the words sharp like knives in his mind, and he doesn’t know what to do.

Nolan is trembling when he picks up his phone and dials Nico’s number.

“Nolan?”

Hearing Nico’s voice above the noise was a relief and everything quieted down, just enough that he didn’t feel like he was in danger of drowning anymore.

He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until he tries to speak. “Nico, I-”

“Hey, hey,” he says quietly, trying to calm him down. Nolan takes a few heavy breaths. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“No, I-” he chokes out and shakes his head. This is stupid. He has no business bothering Nico with this. “I’m sorry. Never mind.”

“Nol-”

“I’ll be alright, okay. Don’t worry about it.” He’s always dealt with this alone. No reason to stop now.

“If you’re sure-”

“I’m sure,” Nolan interrupts before he could change his mind. “Bye, Nico.”

“Goodbye," a brief pause. "I’m here.”

“I know,” he whispers, trying to ignore the concern in Nico’s voice before he ends the call.

He gets a text immediately.

**[From: swiss cheese** **< 3, 12:31pm]**

_ I love you _

**[To: swiss cheese <3, 12:31pm]**

_ I know. I love you too _

He’s got Nico. He knows this. He’s known this since the first week after the draft - when he’d gone without Nico for days after spending so much time with him by his side and it left a weird void in his life. When he’d realised what was going on and spilled his heart to his best friend before he could stop himself. He’s known since Nico kissed him in some park in New Jersey when they could get away for a few hours during their development camps.

He’s known since Nico told him he loved him after their first game against each other.

He knows he has Nico. Will have him for - hopefully - a long time.

He tried to use it as a leg to stand on, so to speak. Tried to use old techniques he used to have to get through bad days like this - step one: make a list of good things in his life.

It was an easy enough list to rattle off, like it was a well rehearsed monologue.

_ Drafted second. A city, a team, teammates who support me. A place I belong. Nico. _

Nico who loves and supports him more than anyone. Nico who feels more like home than any place he’d ever been.

It’s not enough this time.

He knows he has these things, can see them perfectly clear.

They feel too far away. The reassuring voices sound so muted, so distant. It’s like he’s in a glass box, and everything that makes him happy is on the outside. He can see them, they’re right there. When they speak, it’s quiet, but her can hear them. Usually that’s enough.

When it really comes down to it, though, there’s still glass separating them. He can’t touch the things that make him happy. They’re so close, but just out of reach. He can try, he can press himself up against the glass to get as close as he can, but it’s still just a cold barrier.

Nico’s text is there, on the other side of the glass, along with every time Nico had said those words. Along with Nico.

_ I love you _ , and Nolan feels nothing.

His chest is the second thing the emptiness takes from him. The heavy weight turns into a black hole and everything hurts.

He calls Nico again.

“Hey,” he answers immediately. “You okay?”

“I think,” he says, swallowing. “I think I want to die, Nico.”

He hears the small intake of breath on the other end, but he continues before Nico can respond. “I just. I don’t want you to worry.”

“Nolan-”

“Can you come over? If you’re busy or you don’t want to I get-”

“ _ No _ .” Nolan’s heart sinks. The emptiness laughs at him and it makes him nauseous. “Stop. I left the first time you called.” 

Nico’s voice is shaking and Nolan hated himself for causing it just because he was in a bad mood.

“I,” he hiccups, wiping at his eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too. I’ll be a half hour, okay?”

He’d only called him a few minutes ago, though, surely? It hadn’t been an hour, there’s no way-

_ 1:48pm _

Oh.

“I can’t-” he sighs, looking across the room and down the hall. “I don’t think I’ll be able to get to the door.”

“I brought the key you gave me.”

For a brief moment, it felt like his chest sparked with something like fondness, but it was put out immediately.

“Will you be okay if I hang up?”

He can’t see himself getting out of his bed to do much of anything any time soon, let alone anything dangerous. “Yeah.”

“Okay. Love you, see you soon."

“Thank you.”

“Be careful, please,” Nico says before hanging up, and Nolan could hear the desperation in his words.

He sets his phone next to him and wills himself to sit up and take some deep breaths.

_ I have a purpose _ , he says to himself. Step two. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t.  _ I have a purpose.  _

When nothing seemed to change, he starts to repeat it out loud, thinking of the things that backed the sentiment up.

Fuck the fact that he went second overall -  _ incredible _ , that he was picked that high - that he was drafted at all was the important thing. A team wanted him. A team thought he could help them out. In the NHL.

“I have a purpose.” 

That team is in a playoff spot so close to the end of the season. He produced a lot for them, and it’s possible they couldn’t have gotten there without him. The Stanley Cup playoffs are within reach, and he contributed to the journey.

“I have a purpose.”

Nico was on his way over, making the sometimes two hour journey to be there for him, because he cares about him. Because he  _ loves _ him.

“I have a purpose.”

It isn’t enough, though.

The dark, dangerous vibrations going through his entire body drown everything else out. Echos are loudest in empty spaces, after all.

He starts crying again, shaking with the sobs.  _ I know it’s a lie. I know it, but- _

His front door opens. “Nols?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was a hiccup.

Had it been a half hour already? Time felt like it was just barely inching along, but maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it’s going full speed ahead and he was just being left behind.

Nico rounds the corner, and the noise he makes when he saw Nolan was somewhere between a relieved sigh and a worried - no, scared - gasp. It wasn’t a good noise. It made Nolan’s stomach turn.

He holds out his arms helplessly, and Nico hurries over to him, letting himself get wrapped up. Nolan balls his shirt up in his fists and buries his head in his chest. Nico seemed to be clinging on to him as tightly as he was.

They stay like that until Nolan’s crying slowed down, and Nico slides into the bed next to him, pulling him flush against his side. Nolan drapes his legs across Nico’s thighs so he’s nearly sitting in his lap, letting his forehead fall to press gently against his boyfriend’s neck.

“What happened?” Nico asks after a long bout of silence.

He just shrugs.

Nico sighs and moves slightly so Nolan’s head gets dislodged, running a hand through his hair when he looks up at him. “Please?”

Nolan knows he has to look worse for the wear, a day like the one he’d had doesn’t exactly do any favours, but he wasn’t expecting Nico to look like  _ that _ . His eyes are red and puffy and everything about the set of his features screams that he is scared. Terrified even. 

His voice sounds so broken, and it felt like someone squeezed all the air out of Nolan’s lungs.

“Nothing. I don’t know, I’m sorry.” He sighs and shakes his head, looking down at their legs. “This just happens sometimes, I guess. No reason.”

He takes a second to think about that. “Does it happen often?”

“Not recently. Well, not like this.”

Another pause. Nolan understands, this is a lot. “How can I help?”

And  _ that _ ? He has no idea.

It hadn’t been this bad in a long time, and he’d never had anyone try to reach out and help him before. He’d never even told anyone this kind of thing happened to him. “I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, please.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Nico presses a kiss to his temple, and Nolan deflates, suddenly feeling nothing but bone-tired. He rests his head against Nico’s shoulder and shuts his eyes, falling asleep wrapped up in the warmth of his boyfriend.

When he finally blinks awake, Nico’s still there, he hadn’t moved. He shifts and sits up better, “you didn’t have to stay.”

“I did.”

There was something off about the way he said it, and when Nolan looks at him, his heart sinks. There are tear stains on his cheeks and his smile is watery.

“Hisch,” he whispers, reaching up to run a thumb across his cheek.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, catching Nolan’s hand in his own.

“Better, a little.” He doesn’t feel as empty, mostly just tired still, and there’s the ghost of hunger settling in. He should eat, but really he doesn’t feel up to it and probably wouldn’t for a while. “You were crying.”

Nico shrugs and Nolan squeezes his hand.

“Why?”

He bites at his lip for a moment before sighing. “I’m scared.”

“I’m sorry.  _ Fuck _ , I’m sorry.” He hadn’t meant to worry Nico. He didn’t need to deal with this at all, it wasn’t his problem. “I shouldn’t have called you.”

“No,” Nico shakes his head and grabs for Nolan’s other hand, clutching them both in his own. “You should have.”

The set look on his face says there is no room for argument, and Nolan’s chest feels… full. The sigh of relief felt like letting out most of the emptiness - like it pushed out the black hole and let his organs come back. 

It would be back, he knows this, can see the shadows in the corners of his mind, but for right then, in that moment, he had Nico.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve the world.” 

He looks like he really believes it.

Maybe Nolan is still trapped inside a glass box, but Nico is there, he can hear him clearly, and he is warm where they are pressed together. He can feel the pressure of his hands where they are clasped together. Maybe, he thinks when Nico presses a gentle kiss to his forehead, maybe there are holes in the box if he is willing to look for them.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Nico says.

“Me neither,” Nolan responds, and for the first time that day he let himself believe it. He isn’t going anywhere. He is where he belongs.

**Author's Note:**

> This was. Really personal,, so. Sorry @ Nolan for projecting lmao I had a really fucking rough day yesterday
> 
> catch me on [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/alcoholnregret) and [tumblr](http://www.sidnate.tumblr.com)


End file.
